In Spirit Valley Sect, talent was obvious.
It shone in clean meridians, steady qi circulation, and the effortless way certain disciples stepped into higher realms before they were even sixteen. Talent was praised loudly and protected carefully and Lin Yuexin had none of it.
Her meridians were narrow and fractured, unable to retain qi for more than a few breaths. When she was first examined, the physician had sighed and said she could stay in the sect as a servant disciple if she wished. It was not cruelty. It was simply fact.
So Yuexin learned where she belonged. She swept the stone paths before dawn and delivered herb baskets to the Alchemy Pavilion. She sorted leaves by quality and quietly memorized the scent of each one. She stood near the doorway during refinement sessions, pretending to wait for instructions while she watched how the flames moved inside the furnaces.
She noticed things others didn't.
The most skilled alchemists did not fight the fire. They adjusted themselves to it. Their breathing slowed when the flame grew unstable. Their hands hovered, guiding rather than forcing.
She tried once, months ago. It ended with scorched herbs and a cracked furnace lid. Her meridians had burned for days afterward.
Still, she remembered something from that failure. For a moment, just once; when she stopped pushing spiritual energy and matched her breathing to the flame, it had steadied. That memory stayed with her.
Tonight, the herb courtyard was quiet. Most disciples were at evening meditation. The moon hung full and pale above the tiled roofs.
Yuexin knelt before a small bronze furnace that had long since been retired from proper use. She placed bruised Moonlight Grass inside. It was not high quality, but she had chosen it deliberately. If she failed, nothing of value would be lost.
She drew in a slow breath and tried to gather qi. It slipped through her meridians as always. She did not let frustration show on her face. Instead, she guided the faint spiritual energy that naturally leaked from her body toward her fingertips.
A thin flame flickered beneath the furnace. It rose too quickly. Pain followed just as fast. Her arms trembled, and the furnace rattled as heat spiked unevenly. She almost stopped. Instead, she closed her eyes.
Inhale. The flame climbed. Exhale. It softened. She did not try to push more qi into it. She adjusted her breathing again, slower this time, listening to the subtle crackle of burning herbs inside.
Gradually, the shaking lessened. The pain did not disappear, but it dulled. Something cool stirred beneath her ribs, faint but distinct. It did not behave like ordinary qi. It moved without tearing at her meridians, spreading gently through pathways she had never clearly sensed before. The flame steadied.
Yuexin kept her eyes closed and followed that cool sensation, letting it guide her timing. When the scent inside the furnace shifted from sharp to clean, she lifted the lid carefully.
A single pill lay within. It was small and uneven, with a thin line running along one side. Not something that would impress the Alchemy Pavilion masters. But it had formed.
For a long moment, she simply stared at it. Then she laughed quietly, almost in disbelief.
She swallowed the pill without ceremony. Warmth spread through her chest and arms, reinforcing the weakest fracture in her meridians. The improvement was slight, but it was real. She exhaled slowly.
Footsteps sounded against the stone behind her. "You adjusted the flame when it destabilized." The voice was calm, almost observational. Yuexin opened her eyes.
Shen Jue stood near the courtyard entrance. His dark robes were unruffled, his posture straight, as though he had been standing there for some time.
"I didn't know anyone was watching," she said. "I wasn't. Not at first." His gaze moved from the furnace to her face. "You nearly lost control."
"I know."
There was no mockery in his expression. Only focus. "You didn't force the fire," he said after a pause. "You followed it."
She hesitated. "I tried." He studied her a moment longer, as if weighing something privately.
"Your qi feels different tonight," he said. She wasn't sure how to answer that. She could still feel the cool thread beneath her ribs, faint but steady. "It probably won't last," she said instead."Perhaps," he replied.
The moonlight caught briefly in his eyes before he turned to leave. "Be careful," he added, not looking back.
Yuexin remained by the furnace long after he was gone. For the first time, the path in front of her did not feel entirely closed. It was narrow, fragile but it existed.